The Race
by SpyKid18
Summary: Cristina comes up with an unusual way to get around Owen choosing Chief Resident. C/O
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Cristina comes up with a surprising solution to her and Owen's uncomfortable situation. I might continue this, read on and let me know if you'd like that...**

The Race

"Well, there's only one solution to this," Cristina says, decisively staring him down as he continues to eat his pizza.

"And what is that?" he asks, taking another bite which proved remarkably unwise as she answers, "Trial separation."

He chokes on his pizza, dropping the slice back onto the plate as he looks at her incredulously. She can't be serious. Cristina proves that she is, in fact, serious as she expounds on the suggestion, adding "Then when you choose me, it will be clear that our marriage is not influencing you."

"It could look like I'm trying to win you back," he points out, trying to think of anything else to undermine this ridiculous idea that she has gotten into her head.

"We could make the trial separation your idea."

"And have Meredith kill me?"

"She's small, you could handle her."

He gets up from the table and walks over to her. The smooth skin of her face is taut and her lips are pulled into a frown. She is still rearing for the fight, trying to find some scheme to counteract the uncomfortable position Richard Weber has put them in. Owen believes he has just the thing-his brutal honesty. "Cristina, listen to me." He gently takes a hold of her arms. "We are not having a trial separation. The Chief asked me to choose Chief Resident and I will do so fairly. Based on skill and leadership, I will choose the correct person."

Her lips pull into a grin and her arms relax beneath his fingertips. "Well, that'll be an easy decision," she remarks.

"Easy?"

"Come on, Owen." She laughs to herself, but he doesn't follow her humor. When she sees the confusion still clouding his eyes she says, "Most skilled? Best leadership? It's a no-brainer."

Still nothing.

She begins to worry and spells out, "Me. It's me."

His hands move down her arms to gently hold her wrists. She fights against him as she feels disappointment rise in her chest. The look in his eyes needs little explanation and she moves away from him sharply, but his hands stay locked around her wrists. "You are unbelievable!"

"You are all equally qualified for the position," he says slowly.

"Are you kidding me? Karev? Karev is as qualified as I am for the position? _Kempner?_"

"You all have been trained remarkably well."

"Bol shit," Cristina spits. "I deserve this and you know it."

"I am looking at it objectively, Cristina. And that is how I will make my decision."

She glares at him and effectively rips herself from his grip. "You better be able to live with your decision, then. Remember who you come home to."

With that she walks past him and grabs the pizza, her small feet stomping angrily on the wooden floor as she walks towards the stairs and then up to their bedroom. He calls after her, "Are you seriously withholding dinner?"

"Get your head out of your ass and I won't have to!"

He hears the bedroom door slam and he frowns, shoving his hands into his pockets as he wonders if he will be spending the night on the couch. Regardless, pizza for dinner is out of the question and he turns back into the kitchen and grabs the cereal. Leaning against the counter, he stuffs his hand into the box and his fingers hit the dusty, empty bottom. Cristina must have finished it the night before and he knows better than to think she had bought a replacement. Sighing, he tosses the box into the garbage and squeezes his eyes shut.

This was going to a very difficult few weeks.

**A/N: So, should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter was harder to write than I anticipated. Still, I think it turned out well! Hope you enjoy it!**

Playing Dirty

Cristina walks past him, giving him a pointed cold shoulder as she rushes off to assist Teddy with an angioplasty. His grip on his chart tightens and he can recall little about Hank Yates, the patient on the chart he is reviewing. Unhappily, he adds this moment to the long list of shuns by his wife.

The Cold War between him and his wife had been going strong ever since he made it clear to Cristina that he may not choose her. He had to be fair, he reminded her. Weber entrusted him with the job of choosing Chief Resident and he would not let their marriage sway him. She yelled. She railed. She suggested fake-trial-separation. When all of this failed, she simply gave up and did the thing Cristina Yang did best: hold a grudge. Things had deteriorated relatively quickly from there, Cristina giving him either the cold shoulder at home or biting remarks.

"You can't stay like this forever," he reminded her as she wordlessly reached around him for coffee. One pointed look and she turned on her heel as if to remark, _yes I can_.

Things have remained icy.

Derek had been watching from the side and walks over. Casually he remarks, "Cristina is not taking the whole judging-fairly-thing well, is she?"

Owen looks up at Derek and asks, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You choosing is probably not easy on you two."

"Oh, right." Owen laughs gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck and then flipping the chart closed, depositing back on the counter. "We're doing just fine."

"Meredith and I have had to deal with similar things. You'll get through it."

Owen is somewhat stricken by Derek's conviviality. While they definitely bonded over their love for their respective twisted sister, they had never broached the island of friendship. Derek offers one quick grin before turning away, but not before Owen says his name once more and asks, "Um, how did you get her to talk to you?"

Derek laughs. "Cristina does the silent treatment, too?" Owen nods. "Make her talk to you."

"How?"

"You know how," Derek says. "Whatever is your thing, your hold on her, use it. If she's playing dirty, so can you."

Owen nods, his mind beginning to whir as Derek turns on his heel and goes off to visit a patient. Quietly Owen murmurs, "Play dirty, huh?"

* * *

"Owen is choosing Chief Resident?" Alex spits, collapsing back into his chair as he throws his hands up. "Well, there goes everyone else's chances!"

"Oh can it, evil spawn," Cristina answers. "Owen is deciding to be fair and just, meaning I have less chance than _all_ of you. He won't choose me, not at risk of him being accused of playing favorites."

"Yeah right," Jackson huffs from beside Alex. "You totally have the upperhand here."

"Sexual favors," Alex says suddenly. "You can give him sexual favors, we can't! All we can do is try to impress him medically. Not fair, I tell you. Not fair.."

"He's not getting any sexual favors, trust me," Cristina remarks snidely. Meredith looks at Cristina over her salad and asks, "The shunning has begun?"

"The shunning is in full effect."

"I remember when I shunned Derek," Meredith says with a nostalgic grin and Cristina asks, "How did that go?"

"You remember, it ended in the backseat of my car."

"Meaning he won!" Cristina interjects, making her point with a spirited jab of her fork in Meredith's direction. "See, I will not let him win. I will not give in until he either chooses me for Chief Resident or makes a damn good case for someone else."

"No sex?" Karev remarks. "Well, he's gonna be one pissy guy."

* * *

Owen waits outside of the lunchroom for her, grabbing onto her arm as she walks out. She looks up at him and goes, "What-what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm taking you somewhere."

"No, you are not taking me anywhere!"

"Come on, no arguing."

She tries to push him away but her ineffectual fists are useless against his brawn and brawl and she eventually gives in to the reality that wherever Owen is taking her, she is going. She feels her stomach turn as they go into the stairwell, climbing down and down into the underbelly of the hospital to a spot she knows all too well.

"Not fair," she tells him.

"You can't ignore me here," he says, the hum of the boiler soft and steady. "You can't ignore me, not in our place."

"The ignoring is for your own good," she argues. "So that you can make an unbiased opinion."

"No, it's just aggravating," he says. "And it drives me insane because I can't talk to you." He steps closer. "I can't touch you."

"I deserve the position," she says steadfastly, although his proximity makes the hair on the back of her neck rise.

"We can't keep doing this," he says. "You can't push me away and expect me not to push back."

"I'm the most qualified," she continues, but her voice has lost some of its edge. "I have logged the most hours in the OR, the most solo surgeries."

"This is just one of those things that we have to get through. And we _will_ get through it."

His arms are around her waist now and she instinctually leans into him. Her resolve is nearly spent, but she has just enough left to murmur, "My leadership skills are impeccable."

A sliver of a smile and then his mouth covers hers. All fight spent for the moment, she melts in his arms.

* * *

Later that day Cristina approaches Owen in the hallway. She falls into step beside him and says, "I want in on your surgery today. Guy with several amputations and a murmur-it's like Chief Resident gold."

"Karev is already scrubbing in," he tells her.

"But-"

"I have a big surgery at 4, though. You'll scrub into that one"

She looks surprised and asks, "Really?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then." He kisses her cheek quickly and then turns down the hallway. He runs into Derek who looks back at a rather satisfied looking Cristina and says, "Well, I see you took my advice."

**A/N: Thoughts?**

** BTW- how was tonight's episode? I'm watching it tomorrow (late Thursday classes) but I am so. freaking. excited. My friend told me that Owen actually was a pretty good singer! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, this story fell off my radar. In fact, Grey's sort of did. School and Netflix Instant View took my attentions. However, due to a few PMs I recieved I dusted this one off and have created a sort of plan for the rest of the story. So-that means I have a direction for this! Which means more chapters! Yay!**

Game Changer

Cristina and Meredith sit together, both of their arms held out as a nurse draws blood. It's the annual blood drive and the two of them realize what a _primo_ opportunity this is. Donating blood, all that shit, it looks great to the Chief. They're getting involved in the hospital programs, being somewhat philanthropic. They're giving up their blood, after all.

The others chose to chase after surgeries instead of taking part in the blood drive, but that's because they don't see the big picture. Cristina and Meredith, they see the bigger picture here. And besides, both have husbands who have been remarkably useful in getting surgeries. No chasing necessary.

"He's come to his senses," Cristina says, not wincing in the slightest when the nurse slides the needle out. "Giving me all of his best surgeries."

"You weren't in the big trauma last night," Meredith points out.

"Yeah, because I was with Teddy for a valve replacement." The nurse holds up two different granola bars and Cristina grabs the one she wants. "See, the shunning is working."

"Maybe he's trying to lull you into a false sense of security," Meredith suggests, beginning to unwrap her own granola bar. She takes a large bite and muses, "You do complain less when you're working hard."

"No, he simply recognizes my talents," Cristina tells her. "I am brilliant. Therefore, I am on the best surgeries."

"I'm just going to take these down to have them checked," the nurse says. "You guys are free to go."

Cristina turns in the hospital bed, stretching her feet out onto the floor as she laughs to herself and says, "It's pretty funny that George's legacy here are required scannings for all donations to the blood drive."

Meredith smirks. "Wouldn't it be Alex? He's the one who spread the chlymidia."

"Good point," Cristina concedes. "Well, I have to be off. Important surgeries to attend to." Meredith smirks and says, "Right, get on that."

"You have fun with your clinical trials."

"Medical breakthrough!" Meredith calls after Cristina. "It's going to be a medical breakthrough!"

CROWEN

Beyond blood drives, Cristina knew the one key way to put herself in the true running for Chief Resident (which she should be, anyway) was to prove that she was a good teacher. Or at least pretend to be.

"Blood work," she says, looking through the chart. "Where is it?"

"I can get it," one of the interns offers hopefully. Cristina sees this as an opportune teaching moment and she says, "No, I'll get it. You all prep the patient for his surgery."

"On our own?" they ask with wide eyes. It occurs to her that up to this point she had generally done everything herself with the patients and she feels the same sort of surprise as she says, "Yeah, on your own. Don't kill him or anything."

They rush off to the patient, looking like kids in a toy store, and she wanders over to the blood lab. The usual lab technician is there, an elderly woman with an uncanny ability to remember each and every person in the hospital. She knows more than just names, though. Any new employee at Seattle Grace could turn to her and learn everything about the hospital. Hook ups. Firings. Scandals. She knows them all. She grins wide when she sees Cristina and asks, "How can I help you, Dr. Yang?"

"I need Jared Kipner's bloodwork."

"Coming right up," she chirps, giving Cristina a little wink before ducking behind the window to find the labwork. She emerges a moment later and hands Cristina the papers.

"Thanks."

"Oh, and congratulations Dr. Yang." Cristina looks at her oddly and asks, "What?"

"Oh, I hope you don't mind my saying," she says with a knowing smile. Just what the woman is knowing, though, Cristina doesn't have the faintest. 'You haven't told anyone yet, have you?"

"I'm sorry but I have no idea what you're talking about," Cristina says, beginning to become aggravated at this game of _Who's On First_. Did the woman have to be so damn cryptic? Besides, she's left that patient alone with her interns for quite a while, which she really isn't sure is the best idea for the patient's well-being.

"I saw your bloodwork, sweetie," she fills in. "I ran all of them through just a bit ago. But don't worry, my lips are sealed." She makes a little gesture of zipping her lips shut and then throws away the imaginary key. Cristina thinks to herself with mounting panic that the woman better find that damn key as she demands, "Let me see my bloodwork."

"Don't get yourself in a dither now," the woman says, picking up easily on Cristina's agitation. "I promise not to tell anyone."

"Bloodwork," Cristina hisses.

Moments later the papers are in her hands and she feels her stomach drop as she reads a note on the bottom that clearly states:

_Pregnant._

Cristina crumples the paper in her fist and turns away from the lab quickly. Her heart is racing, vision shifting in and out as she attempts to come to terms with whatever the hell is happening. She is moving too fast, mind too torn to take in her immediate surroundings and she collides with something solid.

"Dr. Yang?"

She looks up into the brown eyes of Richard Weber, who is looking at her with clear worry. She knows what it must look like, her blindly combing the halls. "Chief," she manages.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," she answers, nodding awkwardly. "Just-just fine."

Richard looks at her oddly but before he can say anything her husband is at her side, the hero as always, and places his hands on her shoulders. He gives her a little squeeze, his own way of silently asking, "What is up with you?"

"Patient," Cristina mumbles. "I-uh-have to get back to my patient."

"Yeah, of course. You sure you're okay?"

Cristina doesn't answer. She can't. Instead she nods and turns away, heading in the wrong direction for her patient's room with her husband on her heels. He grabs her elbow and pulls her to the side.

"What's going on?"

She pulls away from him, sitting heavily on the seat beside her. She doesn't talk, still unable to form cohesive sentences to explain what is going through her mind.

"Cristina," he presses. "Tell me."

She looks up at him, feeling a spark of indignation at it all. This will certainly make his job easy now. A pregnancy surely takes her out of the running. He skates easily toward his decision as her dreams are crushed. "I'm pregnant," she spits out. "That is what is going on."

"What? But-"

"Apparently we are the unlucky few who birth control fails. Congratulations Owen, we are now a statistic."

His eyes go wide as he breathes out, "You're not happy."

"Of course I'm not," she snaps. "Everything I've worked for is now for nothing. I can't be a mother and Chief Resident."

"Bailey did-"

"And her work suffered for it," Cristina cuts in. "And let's face it, Owen, you aren't going to give me a stressful job when I am carrying your child." She shakes her head, fingers pressing hard on the bench beneath her. "Why is this happening to me?"

"Stop it right now," Owen snaps. "You can't honestly think this is a bad thing." Her lack of response speaks volumes. "Cristina, there will be other opportunities."

"You don't get it," she says, shaking her head. "You're already set in your career. You're the head of trauma. It's decided. Done. I'm just at the start of all of that."

"And one year will hardly change anything."

"One year?" she spits. For such a smart man, her husband can be a complete idiot.

"Cristina-"

"This isn't just one year. This is the rest of my life, my career."

"You can do it," he says, reaching forward and taking her hands in his. He isn't giving up, trying to convince her that this absolute mess they are in will turn positive. But it can't. It won't. Not even when he finishes with, "_We_ can do it."

Cristina slips her hands from his and sighs, "You still don't get it."

"Cristina, please-"

"I need to check on my patient." She rises from the bench but he follows her quickly and says, "We're not done talking about this."

She glances back at him with dark eyes and says, "Do not tell anyone about this. My body, my news. I'll see you at home."

**A/N: Alright, so this basically sets the story on its path for the remaining chapters. I need to say here that this is NOT going to be like Baby Steps. So, you don't have to worry about reading a repeat. Hope you enjoyed it!**


	4. Chapter 4

Talks

Cristina doesn't know what to do and she doesn't like that. Nearly always in control, she is someone accustomed to certainty and stability. Cristina Yang always has a plan and she knows exactly how to execute it. She has been in this situation before, after all. There was Burke and while it ended on its own, she still had went on and made her decision. Papers were signed and appointments were made.

She can't do that now, though. Or at least not without taking a moment to think, but she is a resident with patients and responsibilities and there just isn't time to think. There's hardly time for her to eat lunch.

Still though, she needs something and while for hours just what exactly this _something_ is escapes her, she knows it the moment she sees it. Dark blonde hair knotted into a low bun, this something offers her a distracted smile, entirely unaware of what is about to be forced onto her already overflowing plate of things to worry about.

"I need to talk to you," Cristina says.

"I have some paperwork to do and-"

"Look, you know I wouldn't ask if I didn't really need to talk," Cristina interjects hurriedly. She's pressing for her to understand, to see what is being left unsaid. And sure enough, she does.

That's what _persons_ are for, after all.

"Locker room?" Meredith suggests, already stepping past Cristina in that general directions. She follows, fingertips tingling as she realizes that this will be the first person outside of Owen who will know.

And the lab tech. She really hopes that woman can keep her trap shut. Cristina walks into the locker room and shuts the door, clicking it locked.

"What's going on?" Meredith demands. "You're acting crazy."

"You can't tell anyone this," Cristina warns first. "Not anyone. Not Derek. Not Alex. Callie. No one."

Meredith shakes her head at the overt confidence in which this imminent confession is being fashioned in. She says, "What did you do? Kill someone?"

Cristina rolls her eyes and says, "Yes, Meredith, I killed someone. Stabbed them right in the jugular."

The sarcasm is not lost on Meredith and she relents, "Alright fine, I know you didn't kill anyone. You're just acting all weird."

"Well, that can happen when you get life changing news," Cristina huffs.

"Life changing news?"

It occurs to Cristina then, several minutes and one hurried trip to the locker room too early, that she can't tell Meredith. She shouldn't because the exact thing she is begrudging is what her friend has been working towards, praying towards for months. But here she is, Meredith looking at her expectantly as she stalls. Finally Cristina sits beside her and says, "I'm pregnant."

A beat and then Meredith answers, "Oh."

"I need you to listen to me," Cristina says slowly. "And I know this is hard for you and I probably shouldn't even be telling you all of this, but I have no one else to talk to. Owen doesn't understand and Callie has all those pregnancy hormones raging which renders her completely useless-"

"Just tell me," Meredith says.

She waits a moment to let Meredith have a chance to change her mind and then begins to air her concerns. She goes into her beliefs on parenting and her thoughts on being a mother.

"I don't want kids because I'm not cut out for that," Cristina says, shaking her head. "I was practically born with a scalpal in my hand. That is what I am supposed to do, supposed to be. Not a mother."

"So what are you going to do?"

Cristina looks down at the floor, running the toe of her shoe along the lines of the linoleum. "I don't know," she admits. "That's why I came to you."

"I can't tell you what to do," Meredith says immediately. "Not with this."

Cristina hears the pain in her voice and looks up, heart breaking just a bit when she sees the tears in her friend's eyes. She frowns as she somewhat inappropriately feels the injustice of it all cut deeper. Meredith is the one who wants the baby. She is the one willing to juggle and balance.

"This should be you," Cristina says.

"No," Meredith answers, shaking her head a bit before emerging with a watery grin. "You just want me out of the running for Chief Resident."

Cristina laughs a bit but it is just as hollow as Meredith's previous remark.

* * *

"You look like hell," Derek notes, falling into stride beside Owen as they head to a meeting with the Chief.

"Been a rough day," Owen answers evasively, avoiding his colleague's gaze. All day he had been unable to think about anything else beside his wife and this ridiculous storm she is pulling them through. A baby is a good thing. How she can't see that is beyond him.

"Cristina proving difficult again?" Derek guesses. Owen nearly instinctually answers with_, _"You have no idea." Luckily he catches himself, though, and simply says, "Things have complicated."

"How so?" Derek catches Owen's hesitance and quickly adds, "If you don't mind my asking."

Owen nearly tells him then. He thinks of how nice it would be to have a friend at a moment like this. Someone to take his side and agree how ridiculous his wife is being. But he will never betray Cristina and she had asked him not to tell anyone. So, he forces himself to laugh and says, "You know how, Sheperd. She's one half of the twisted sisters."

Derek laughs at that and says, "Very true. Well, hang in there. They always bounce back."

Owen nods, although honestly he doesn't know if that will prove true. Maybe not this time.

* * *

Cristina takes her time at work, not too keen on getting home. At the hospital there are patients and work that take her mind off of everything in her increasingly frayed personal life. At home there is nowhere to hide.

At home there is Owen.

Still, though, there is only so much to do in one workday and much too soon for her liking she is walking up the steps of their apartment and then turning the key in the door. She can tell the minute that she walks in that he is cooking, a terrible sign considering he usually does it to temper a fight.

"How was work?" he asks, voice careful. He is tiptoeing around the subject that he really wants to address. Beating his way around it until conversation invariably lands right on the issue.

"Let's just talk about it," she sighs.

She sits in the living room, listening to the final clatter of dishes and then Owen joins her. He speaks first, getting directly to the point as he says, "You can't seriously be thinking about not keeping it."

"I don't know what I'm thinking about," she says. "I haven't made any decisions."

"No, _we _haven't made any decisions," he corrects firmly. "I get a say in this, Cristina."

"It's my body-"

"And it's my kid. This isn't just you who is affected by this, Cristina. Do you know how hard I've worked to become the man who can be your husband? Be a father?"

"Don't make this about you," she says heatedly. "It's not about you."

"And what? It's only about you?"

"It's my body, Owen!"

"And it's our life!" He gets up from the couch and begins to pace, something she knows from experience can only mean trouble. "I won't let you end this pregnancy, Cristina. It goes against everything that I believe in. Out in that battlefield I saw people have their lives taken from them. They were good men who didn't have a chance in hell to survive out there. We will not do the same thing. We will not take this person's life because you want some damn position at work!"

"I'm not saying that I'm going to do anything," Cristina says agitatedly. "You're jumping to conclusions! I'm just saying that maybe we should think about this for a minute!"

"What is there to think about, Cristina? What?"

"This is going to change our lives forever," she says firmly. "Are you prepared for that? Nothing will be the same, not ever again and-"

"That's what is supposed to happen," he interrupts, no longer pacing but his shoulders rigid with tension. "What did you think comes after marriage?" She doesn't answer and he shakes his head. "You're not getting an abortion. I don't care what you say or what you think, you are keeping that baby."

"How do you even know we'll be good parents?" Cristina asks, looking up at him from the couch. "I'm not maternal."

"Cristina-"

"I hate kids. I'd rather spend all day in the psych ward than suffer five minutes on a pedes rotation."

"That means nothing."

"And kids don't like me. Probably because they know I don't like them. Which I don't." Despite her overtures on disliking children, Owen feels the heat behind her words soften and he sits down beside her as his own anger ebbs. Despite all her talk, he knows she wouldn't do it. The woman he fell in love with would not do it.

"We're going to get through this," he tells her, voice full of determination. She refuses to look at him but doesn't move away when he lays a hand on her leg. "And this isn't the end. A lot of people have kids and professional careers. If anyone can do both, it's you."

"I need some time," she tells him.

"Cristina-"

"Just give me some damn time," she snaps, head turning toward him. "I need to sort through things, okay? Just-just give me some time."

"Fine," he relents. "I'll give you time." Just what this time means he doesn't know. He won't let her get an abortion and he truly believes that the woman beside him would never actually go through with it. Cristina may appear heartless, but she would never go that far.

And so he comforts himself with these simple thoughts. Simple thoughts that aren't capable of entertaining the unknown truth that Cristina _had_ gone that far.

**A/N: And..next chapter will be up in a few days! Please leave feedback! With finals kicking my butt, I could use something nice like a little review :)**

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello! Did you all see the promo for the finale? I am very interested to see how that plays out! Perhaps it will end up something like this story..haha**

Bun Out Of The Oven

They're staring. She can tell they are trying to be covert with it, but she catches the side long glances and whispers. And just like that she knows.

The bun is out of the oven.

"I didn't tell them," Meredith says the moment she sees Cristina. She falls in step beside her and when met with silence says, "A response would be nice."

"I know you didn't," Cristina says, quickening her pace. "I know _exactly_ who told everyone."

"Owen?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. Despite their tiff a few days prior, she knows it wasn't him either. She knows Meredith expects further explanation but chooses to show, rather than tell. They stop at the lab and she knocks on the window, waiting somewhat impatiently for the chatty lab technician to show her face.

"Dr. Yang," she trills, her smile dimming just a bit as she takes in the expression on Cristina's face. "Oh dear," she breathes out. "I was hoping you beat me to it. It just slipped, I swear! I meant no disrespect, sweetie!"

Cristina bites the inside of her bottom lip, keeping her sharp tongue reigned in. She never intended on yelling at the woman, she just wanted her to admit she had done it. So, with confession aired Cristina takes one steadying exhale and says, "I'm here for Tib Hall's bloodwork."

"Oh," the woman breathes out, color returning to her cheeks. "Yes, of course! Coming right up!"

"You didn't yell at her," Meredith notes.

"People were bound to find out," Cristina sighs, gnawing on the side of her thumb. "Only a matter of time."

"How are things with you and Owen? You guys talk anymore about it all?"

"Not really," Cristina says. "We-" she stops talking when the elderly woman's head pops into the window. She takes the chart from her and then continues the conversation as her and Meredith move on back into the pit. "It's better right now if we don't. I asked for time and this is what that is. Time."

Meredith is silent for a moment and then she says, "You're not really thinking about an abortion are you?" Cristina doesn't answer. "I mean, I know you did with Burke before and all. But…it's different now, Cristina."

"I know," Cristina admits. "It is different. I have more to lose."

"And it's Owen," Meredith adds. "That matters and you know it."

Cristina doesn't respond because she knows that Meredith is right. Owen does change things. With Burke it had been easy. Sure, he was the father but what were they even when it all happened? They definitely weren't married. A union. A partnership.

"I just need time," Cristina says, shaking her head. "With time it will be resolved."

Meredith responds with, "Nine months time?"

"Don't push your luck."

* * *

Alex walks into the cafeteria, tray in hand and eyes scouring for a place to sit. He spots Meredith and Cristina sitting in a corner table and heads over, not hesitating to infringe on what appears to be a private conversation. He plops down beside Meredith and says, "You guys don't mind, right?"

"Would you move if we did?" Cristina asks tiredly.

"Nope."

"Exactly," she deadpans.

"You're a pissy one this morning," Alex says. "Or should I say hormonal?" Cristina glares at him as she bites into her sandwich, looking pointedly at a spot just above Alex's shoulder as she chews.

"I don't think you should bring that up," Meredith says from beside him.

"Why not?"

"She's taking some time."

"Some time?" Alex repeats, shaking his head as he laughs. "What the hell does that even mean? Besides, how did you even get knocked up? I thought you were _shunning_."

"I was," Cristian says testily.

"Then how are you pregnant?"

Cristina drops her sandwich back to the plate and sets him with a level glare as she hisses, "Did you print your medical certificate off of Word? Seriously, Karev. The shunning only started two weeks ago. And before that there was a lot of un-shunning."

Despite Karev's general sourness at the Word comment he chuckles at the last part and says, "Oh yeah, I know. Robbins would always complain about it when you guys were living together."

"Seriously?" Cristina spits. "Her and Callie were so much worse. They were the reason Owen and I even needed to get our own place!"

"Just going off what I heard," Alex says with a shrug. Cristina grabs a chip from his plate and tells him, "Well, I'm going off of what I heard _and_ saw. Believe me, they were worse."

"Who was worse?" Lexie asks, taking the seat beside Cristina. She gets the feeling that she has intruded on something and quickly says, "You guys don't mind, do you?"

"Why do people always ask that after they've sat down?" Cristina mutters.

"Yang's got a bun in the oven," Alex says, no doubt getting revenge for the Word bit. Cristina shoots him a look as Lexie coos beside her, hand dangerously close to landing on Cristina's arm. Or belly.

"A baby," Lexie gushes, grinning wide. "Oh, it's such a wonderful thing! First Sophia and now another! The hospital has baby fever, huh?"

"You are way too perky," Cristina says, scooting away from her. "You're making me nauseous."

"That's probably morning sickness," Lexie says with an indulgent grin, nudging Cristina's arm. Cristina looks at Meredith in alarm, but the latter only looks on in bemusement.

"It's not morning sickness," Cristina tells her firmly. "It's too early for that."

"Morning sickness can happen in times other than morning," Lexie logically replies. "So-"

"Can it Lexipedia," Cristina snaps. "It's not morning sickness."

"Well, it doesn't really matter," Lexie concedes. She lays a hand on Cristina's shoulder, either not noticing or simply ignoring the look of discomfort on Cristina's face. "A baby is such a happy thing. You and Owen must be so excited!" She reads into Cristina's silence easily and slowly asks, "You _are_ happy, right?"

Cristina answers with, "I have patients to see." She rises from the table, picking up her tray and tells them, "I am going to go do some kick ass surgeries. Save some lives. You all enjoy your lunches."

She walks off, Lexie's voice behind her as she says in disbelief, "She's actually not happy."

* * *

Owen understood Cristina. He understood her focus, her ambition. He understood her refusal to settle and almost inhuman drive that was behind nearly everything that she did. He understood her and knew her better than anyone else. Better than himself.

What he could not understand, though, was how she could consider forsaking this baby-this perfect surprise-for a job. Even while he understood the reasoning and logic, he couldn't understand that final turn. He could never imagine reaching that conclusion, so he couldn't understand how she had.

Still, he would give her time. She wanted a chance to think through all of her options and come to terms with what had happened to them, and he would give her that. In the mean time though, he would use all the cards he had. One being the visit he scheduled the day before with one of the OBGYN nurses that he was friendly with. He got her to squeeze Cristina onto today's schedule. That part done, the only thing left to do was convince Cristina to go. That could prove tricky.

"What? I have patients to see," she says immediately, shaking her head. "I-I don't have time, Owen."

"I checked your schedule," he says calmly, following her as she puts back a chart on the nurse's desk and pulls out another. "You have an hour free between 2 and 3. Your ultrasound is at 2:15."

"I don't want to do any of that stuff here," Cristina says distractedly, flipping through a series of lab results. She pauses on one page for a moment and then turns it over. "I'm not making a spectacle of myself."

"There will be no spectacle."

"Lunch already turned into a three ring circus."

"I will physically block the door myself," Owen tells her, eliciting a typical Cristina Yang eye roll as she frowns and says, "Yeah, because that looks inconspicuous."

"Look, I'm giving you time," Owen says. She turns in toward him as he talks and he takes that as a small victory. "You asked for it, and I said yes. All I'm asking is for you to do this one thing. I made an appointment here because I figured it would be most convenient. Just do this one here and the rest can be outside of Seattle Grace."

"I'm too busy," she holds.

"Twenty minutes," Owen presses. "I will make the technician go fast."

"How can you do that if you're guarding the door?"

"I thought we agreed that would only draw attention," he retorts easily, smiling a bit as he knows he convinced her. She sighs and says, "Fine, I will be there at 2:15. They have twenty minutes. I will be keeping time."

"I'd expect nothing else," he says, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. "So, I'll find you a little after two. We can head down."

"I can make it there on my own, you know."

He grins. "Yeah, I know. But I'll still see you then."

* * *

She didn't like the idea of getting an ultrasound. It made it real somehow, or more real than it was. Before it was only on paper. She had felt no physical symptoms (before was decidedly _not_ morning sickness) or _feelings_ that pointed toward pregnancy. If she blocked out that pesky blood test, she could almost pretend that it hadn't happened at all. That would all change with the ultra sound. There would be pictoral evidence, then.

Owen finds her just after two, like he said. They take the elevator to pedes, all the while she is praying that they don't run into Arizona. The last thing she needs is to hear her go on about Sofia and motherhood. Luckily, the perky blonde surgeon must be in surgery or somewhere else in the hospital because they arrive at their room undetected.

"Hello, Dr Yang," the nurse says warmly. "You're right on time."

"Okay, let's make this quick," Cristina says. She hops on the seat, leaning back and pulling up her shirt. Owen smirks a bit at her behavior and moves beside her as he says, "She might want to ask us some questions first, Cristina."

"Alright shoot," Cristina says to the nurse, propping an arm under her head. Owen sighs and reaches forward to tug down his wife's shirt. She gives him a look but doesn't say anything.

"Do you know how far along you are?"

"I would say four or five weeks," Cristina says. She looks to Owen for confirmation and he nods. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Okay," the nurse says, nodding. "Alright, there probably won't be too much development but let's take a look." She goes over to the ultrasound equipment and returns to Cristina. "Now, I'm just going to squeeze some of this-"

"Yeah, yeah I know," Cristina says, waving her hand for the nurse to continue. "I've done this before, you know? Don't need a long explanation."

The nurse took Cristina's sharp remarks in stride, obviously accustomed to overbearing hormonal women. Little did she know it wasn't the hormones talking. She squeezes the gel onto Cristina's and then slides the transducer over it. She looks to the monitor and moves the transducer a bit more until she settles on one portion of Cristina's stomach.

"There," the nurse says. "It's minimal development, like I thought, but that spot there is the sac. It is where your baby will grow."

Cristina stares at the small spot, feeling a pull at the base of her belly that made her breath hitch. There it is, barely developed but still, it's there. No longer is it only ink on a piece of paper. It's real.

Owen looks down at Cristina, hoping this had the effect he intended. While he couldn't be sure, his wife's silence spoke volumes.

**A/N: As you can see, Cristina is warming to the pregnancy. Hope you enjoyed this!**


End file.
